I'm so excited to welcome Andrew Grey to my blog today!
I want to thank Mary for having me as a guest on her blog. She is such a wonderful friend! I’m here today to talk a little about my new book, Backward. This is the third story in the Bronco’s Boys series. The funny thing about the books in this series has been that a lot of the talk about these books has been about the covers which I love and have had the opportunity to work with some amazing guys. But here today I want to talk about the story itself. Backward is Harry and Tristan’s story. In the previous two books, Harry has been the man in the background taking care of business. In this book he gets a starring role and Harry turned out to be everything I’d hoped he would, strong, smart, and willing to stand up for the ones he loves. He’s a great person, one that I grew to admire.
Of course I introduced Tristan in the previous books as well. He’s part of Zach’s group of friends and the third to get his story. I loved Tristan. He’s made bad choices and gotten himself into trouble. But he’s also got spunk and life. One of the things I love to do in my stories is to add a little humor. We all have our fears and foibles. In this book, its Tristan’s that come forward. Among other things, Harry loves animals and has a cat.] Butterscotch. Or as Tristan refers to her, a ball of hairy death. Tristan is afraid of cats. Don’t ask me where that came form because I have no idea. Sometimes when writing a story something will pop into my head and flow out onto the page without any thought. Basically Tristan told me he was afraid of cats. That helped make Tristan more human for me.
I really hope you love Backward as much as I enjoyed writing it. The story has heat, drama, passion, action, and intrigue. It also introduces some new characters that you’ll be seeing in the future.
Club owner Harry Klinger has had his eye on Tristan Martin for months, but never had the nerve to approach him. He’s watched as Tristan dated Eddie and then reluctantly sat on the sidelines during the emotional breakup when Tristan discovered Eddie was dealing drugs. Now that Tristan seems to be healing, Harry hopes to get his chance.
When Eddie sends his men into Harry’s club to harass Tristan, Harry steps in to help. Tristan is reluctant at first since he admittedly has terrible taste in men, but Harry seems genuine, and Tristan can’t help but think Harry’s sexy as well and begins to hope for happiness for both of them.
Unfortunately, Eddie isn’t behaving rationally, sampling too much of his own product. With his determination to take Tristan back, it’ll take more than Harry’s help to keep Tristan safe as Eddie ratchets up his attempts to get what he wants.
Harry Klinger stood just outside the doorway to his domain at Bronco’s. He managed the business end, while Bull was the real face of the place. He was also head of security and someone none of the patrons wanted to deal with. Bull had been his friend for years, and he trusted the man completely. They had had each other’s backs often enough, and he had no doubt they would again. A friend—no, brother—like that was worth more than gold in Harry’s opinion.
“We’ve got trouble,” Bull said as he somehow materialized next to him. Harry had no idea how a man as huge and distinctive as Bull could possibly go anywhere unnoticed, but he managed to pull it off quite often.
Harry turned and followed Bull’s gaze. At first he wasn’t sure what he was looking at. It was a table crowded with men, like every other one in the packed club. The music pounded and throbbed through the seductively lit space, the energy of the place pulsing through him. That was what he loved about this business—the energy and vitality he felt when he was out here.
“Watch the man at the far side of the table,” Bull said.
Harry turned, taking his gaze off the place it always seemed to wander of its own accord. For almost two years now, he had watched Bull’s partner’s friend Tristan, one of the fabulous four, as he thought of them. “What am I looking for?” he asked absently.
“Just watch,” Bull said.
Harry shifted so he could see better across the crowded club and noticed a man he hadn’t seen before: dark hair, eyes, and beard, smoldering good looks. If Harry were closer, maybe seated at that table, he figured he’d smell the raw scent of masculine sexuality over the alcohol, sweat, smoke, and musk that pervaded the club. Harry pushed that out of his companionship-, gratification-, and love-starved brain and returned to the task at hand. Men shifted around the table, almost like the dance the men did on the floor of the club. It wasn’t until one of the men on the right side moved back for a few seconds that Harry saw what Bull meant. The man on the left side of the dark-haired man at the center clasped his hand. Harry knew in that instant what he was seeing. Money was placed in the dark-haired man’s hand, and the hand disappeared under the table. He couldn’t see it, but he knew what was going on. The hand reappeared again, another touch, and then the man moved away and another took his place.
“What do you want to do?” Harry asked. “He needs to go, and be taught a lesson.”
“I know.” Bull stepped forward, and Harry placed his hand on his shoulder to stop him. Tristan approached the table.
“What the hell is he doing?” Harry asked Bull. “Do you think he knows him?” Fury rose inside to the point he could barely think. “I wonder if that guy is some associate of that scumbag ex of his.”
Tristan approached the table but didn’t sit down, which was a relief. He stood at the end, partially blocking Harry’s view.
“I’m going to break this up and put the fear of God into that bastard,” Bull said. He took two steps, just as Bull’s partner, Zach, made his way over to Tristan. Bull stopped, and Harry heard him swear under his breath. The two of them were inseparable, and Harry saw the tension in Bull’s body ramp up to unbelievable heights. Bull would move heaven and earth to protect Zach; he’d done it before.
Zach took Tristan’s arm and pulled him away. He turned and appeared to say something. The swarthy man’s expression changed to a lusty leer, and Bull was halfway across the floor before Harry could say a word. He followed behind Bull, signaling to the other bouncers that they had better get their asses over there. Bull was usually coolheaded and generally thought things through, but when it came to Zach, he was as growly as hell and could be vicious if he thought anyone would hurt the man he loved more than life itself.
Zach moved away from the table, with Tristan in tow, as Harry hurried to catch up with Bull. The big man stormed toward the table, the tide of men in the club parting like the Red Sea.
“Excuse me!” Bull boomed over the music as he reached the edge of the table.
“Can I help you?” the Hispanic-looking man asked as he leaned back, looking completely unconcerned. This guy was either really cocky or as stupid as they came. Bull leaned over the table and grabbed the men to either side of the man, lifted them off their seats, and pulled them away.
“You two, get out of the club now before I take you out of here in a trash can.” Bull’s growl stopped both of them from reacting.
“It’s all right. He and I will just have a little talk,” the man said to the other two men, who looked like bodyguards.
“Okay, Carlos,” said one of the two men Bull was still holding on to. Bull released them, and they walked off toward the front door, with bouncers following them.
“The rest of you—beat it,” Bull said to the other customers at the table.
The boys who had gathered around for their chance to do “business” bade a hasty retreat, and soon it was just the three of them: Bull, Harry, and Carlos. The man didn’t seem surprised or nervous in the least.
“So what can I do for you gentlemen?” Carlos asked. Bull placed both hands on the table and leaned over it but said nothing. Harry stood back and watched. Carlos blinked, the first sign of nervousness, and Bull pulled the table away, swung around, and set it down before stalking into the vacated space. “I was only doing a little business.”
“Not in my club you don’t,” Bull said.
“Your club? I hardly think—”
Bull reached out and yanked Carlos to his feet, then pulled him into a nearby corner. “Yes, my club. I own it, and your kind of business is never welcome here.” Bull shook him sharply. “And don’t you dare insult me by making an offer to cut me in on your action, or I’ll shake you until your head flies off. You got me? This is a clean club, and people like you are not welcome here.” Carlos tried to pull away. Bull shifted, grabbed Carlos’s arm, and wrenched it behind his back. “Try anything, and I won’t just break your arm, I’ll make sure you never use it again. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes,” Carlos gritted out. Bull released him, and he staggered slightly. Bull shoved him, probably to keep him off-balance.
“Good. My bouncers are all over this club, and nothing happens here without me knowing about it. So I suggest you leave while you can still walk, and tell your friends not to show their faces in here.”
Carlos straightened his shirt, most likely to hide the fact that he was trying not to shake in his shoes.